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Jomarvow 

and omerioems 
Mary Chandler Jones 





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TOMORROW 

AND OTHER POEMS 



TOMORROW 

AND OTHER POEMS 



BY 



MARY CHANDLER JONES 




THE PILGRIM PRESS 



BOSTON 



NEW YORK 



CHICAGO 






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COPYRIGHT, I9I4 
BY LUTHER H. GARY 



JliN -c 1914 



THE PLIMPTON PRESS 
NORWOODMASSUSA 

■©CI,A37r)211 



TO 

MY MOTHER 



ACKNOWLEDGMENT 

Of the poems which appear in this little volume, 
acknowledgment should be made as follows: 
"Mt. Monadnock and the Green Moun- 
tains," to the New England Magazine; 
"Thanksgiving" and "Do You Know 
the Land?" to the Independent; 
"The Key Note" to Munsey' 
Magazine; "All Saints," "Un- 
til We Die," "The Grace- 
of our Lord Jesus Christ," 
and "Sir, We Would 
See Jesus," to The 
Congregationalist. 
M. C. J, 



CONTENTS 

PAGE 

Tomorrow ii 

The Sun Dial 12 

To THE Unknown . 13 

Facing East 14 

Mount Monadnock 15 

Until We Die 16 

All Saints ^ . . 17 

My Cup Runneth Over 18 

'The Grace of Our Lord Jesus Christ" . 19 

The Upper Room 20 

San Diego ..." 21 

Of My Friends ^2. 

To A. E. C 23 

For Company 24 

Sympathy 26 

Autumn's Heralds 2.J 

The Mystery of Dawn 28 

The Birch Road 29 

The Church Path 30 

Over the Hedge 32 

The Blind Gentian 34 



Contents 

PAGE 

Lights 36 

"No More Sea" 38 

"Do You Know the Land?" 40 

Thanksgiving 42 

The Boy with the Shepherds .... 44 

"God Rest You Merry!" 46 

The Strait Way 48 

The Garden and the Highway .... 50 

"Sir, We Would See Jesus" 51 

"This is Eternal Life" 53 

The Tryst 54 

The Key-Note 55 

Tomorrow and Today 56 



TOMORROW 



\ 



Tomorrow 



"TOMORROW" 

I HAVE not feared to live, since, come what 
may, 
I have been sure that, somehow, all would 
be 
Made ready still, in manner fair for me. 
And so, free-hearted, I have gone my way — 
Some work, some rest, a little time for play. 
Sunshine and stars, the mountains and the sea ; 
Home and my friends, in blessed company — 
What have I lacked, from little day to day? 

And shall I say, "Tomorrow!" with more 

doubt 
Because its dawn shall whiten strange and far? 
I never knew "tomorrow" ; yet have I 
At even laid me down to sleep, without 
A question of that morrow's morning star 
Or that its sun should climb the brightening sky. 



11 



Tomorrow 



THE SUN DIAL 

(S. C. C.) 

NOT from far gardens, dark with an- 
cient yew, 
Bordered with box, with timeless roses 
sweet. 
Came brass or stone, quaint-graven, to repeat 
Warning of yesterday, 'mid sunshine new. 
Not made for English gray or Tuscan blue 
But for today and here, in cold and heat, 
His dial stood to catch the shadow fleet. 
Marking the hour, true as the sun is true. 

And even as, with his own skill he wrought 
By light to measure common work and play, 
Scarce caring what another hand had done, 
So, in the hidden garden of his thought, 
His own the dial was that caught the ray 
And measured life by the Eternal Sun. 



12 



Tomorrow 



TO THE UNKNOWN 

O "Heart's one choice," if down the un- 
blazed years, 
Wherein I lose myself and fear to go, 
There be one trail that leads to you, although 
Tangled with thorn, and blind with mist of 

tears, 
I pray high heaven that nor doubts nor fears 
May turn me from it, foolish, seeking so 
Some easier path, since evermore I know 
Life's sweetness dwells where your dear face 
appears. 

You are my home. Beloved. Far and far 

I travel till I meet you, nor will stay 

At hostelries, nor yet with any friend; 

But, when I find the one place where you are 

I will abide so long as it is day. 

And after — till Eternity shall end. 



13 



Tomorrow 



FACING EAST 

THERE is a window, facing toward the 
east, 
Where I may catch the first strange, 
whitening ray 
Of that fair miracle which shall be Day — 
The morning star its prophet and its priest. 
The dawn winds whisper softly, "Night has 

ceased !" 
And valley mists turn rosy that were gray, 
While from behind the hills, far, far away, 
Springs up the light — by God's own hand in- 
creased. 

Maker of Light — Oh, give me still to keep 
Some eastern window where the light may 

grow. 
Then, howsoever long and cold and deep 
May be the night, there shall the morning 

glow — 
And when Thy dawn across my earth shall 

break, 
Lord of the sunrise, grant that I may wake ! 

H 



Tomorrow 



MOUNT MONADNOCK AND THE 
GREEN MOUNTAINS 

I KNOW a mountain that stands all alone, 
King of the vassal hills which round him 
keep 
A waiting silence. Night and morning heap 
Their drifting mists of glory, zone on zone, 
About his shoulders, till the cold gray stone 
Gives back the rosy splendor. Tempests sweep 
In idle fury round that crowned steep, 

lonely monarch! Solitary throne I 

1 wonder if he ever looks across 

To the far ranges in their restless climb 

Of summit after summit, longing so 

For nearer comradeship, though gained by loss 

To his own glory. To be strong, sublime. 

Alone — is that the pleasure mountains know"? 



15 



Tomorrow 



UNTIL WE DIE 

OLIFE, we know that some day it must 
be 
Thy warm, dear sun shall set to rise 
no more, 
And through the soul's unbarred and swinging 

door 
The mist shall sweep that rolleth in from sea. 
Yet from that hour of night we would not flee, 
For sunset ever holds the dawn in store, 
And death is life which leadeth still before, 
After the opened gate hath set us free. 

Nay, 'tis the unseeing eye, the unheeding ear. 
The hands that falter e'er the heart hath failed, 
The heart that finds love's tasks too stern and 

high— 
'Tis shrinking life, not loss of days, we fear. 
These things, not death, whereat our souls have 

quailed. 
Life, grant that we may live until we die I 



16 



Tomorrow 



ALL SAINTS 

NOT to the high, saints do I pray today, 
On whom the martyr fire, the martyr 
wheel, 
Set the great glory of their holy seal ; 
But unto those who walked our dusty way. 
Nor dreamed that they were saints; who made 

life gay 
For other lives, while sorrow's bitter steel 
Pierced their own souls; who kept their broth- 
ers leal 
By their own loyalty. To these I pray I 

O brows, surprised by halos all unguessed. 
Forget not — nay for that I need not ask — 
The weary struggle and the homely strife 
By which you won your dwelling and your rest. 
And for that sake aid ye each toil, each task, 
And help me climb up to your blessed life! 



17 



Tomorrow 



"MY CUP RUNNETH OVER" 

I HOLD a cup of life which doth o'errun; 
Not half its blessing ever can be mine, 
For sweet as treasured honey, clear as 
wine, 
The bright drops fall, asparkle in the sun. 
So much achievement evermore unwon. 
So much of joy forever but a sign ! 
Shall I, in ashes, sorrow and repine 
Because my cup of blessing must o'errun *? 

Nay, Giver of all life, I would look up 
In full content, in utter thankfulness 
That so much greater than my tiny cup 
Thy treasure is. But grant that I may bless 
With staff and scrip, with heav'nly bite and 

sup, 
Some poorer souls from thy free lovingness ! 



18 



Tomorrow 



"THE GRACE OF OUR LORD 
JESUS CHRIST" 



F 



ORTH from Thy gracious presence, Lord, 
we go 
Once more along the world's untender 
ways. 
We may not pause upon Thy face to gaze 
Nor linger in Thy happy courts; for lo. 
Thou hast sealed us ambassadors, to show 
Thee to the world that hath not known Thy 

praise. 
Then, to our common tasks, our hurried days. 
We turn again, since Thou hast willed it so. 

To make rough places plain, the crooked 

straight. 
To help the weak, yet envy not the strong, 
To make the earth a sweeter dwelling place 
In little ways, or, if we may, in great, 
We pray. Lord Jesus, grant to us Thy grace. 



19 



Tomorrow 



THE UPPER ROOM 

O Master mine, what time with weary 
feet, 
Bearing my water jar, I go my way — 
Though still I feel Thy presence, day by day, 
Beside the well, along the crowded street. 
Walking with Thee in friendship strong and 

sweet; 
Yet when Thine errands press I scarce may stay 
To listen long to Thee, nor long delay 
To answer freely, as were dear and meet. 

So I would keep an upper room for Thee, 
Clean from earth's dust and quiet from its din. 
Only Thine own, O blessed Master mine ! 
Wilt Thou not enter there to sup with me. 
The world shut out, nought save Thy love 

within, 
To break for me life's bread and pour life's 

wine? 



20 



Tomorrow 



SAN DIEGO 

(The Angel's Kitchen, by Murillo, in the Louvre.) 

A r^HERE was a monk who thought his 
task too low 



I 



To offer unto God from day to day, 
A spendthrift he, dreaming the gold away 
Of that sweet service which his hours might 

show. 
Then angels came and ministered, for lo ! 
When earthly hands will not, the heavenly 

may, 
And God's good plan shall neither change nor 

stay 
Because our hearty shrink back, our feet are 

slow. 

Lord, it is thine to give the unfailing bread 
And thine it is to fill the unwasting spring; 
The unfading dawn is kindled by thy might. 
But oh, be mine the hand that, comforted. 
From Love Unbounded ministering, may bring 
A crust, cool water and a candle light! 



21 



Tomorrow 



OF MY FRIENDS 

YE are my crown of glory, O my friends I 
My noblest honor and my chief delight. 
Wherefore I think upon you day and 
night, 
And ever your dear company attends 
My journey, and a steadfast sunshine sends 
O'er worlds and years, to keep my pathway 

bright. 
Ye do high service, far beyond my might, 
And for my weakness, so, ye bring amends. 

God make me worthy of you ! Not as one 
Who can be equal, but as one who may. 
Like to the moon, giving earth back the sun, 
Reflect your truth and sweetness day by day 
And to less blessed lives may minister 
Because her own friends are so much to her. 



22 



Tomorrow 



TO A. E. C. 

YOU, who have heard the nightingale 
a-singing, 
Filling with passion all the star- 
bound dark; 
You, who have seen at whitest noon upwinging 
One tuneful speck — and known it was a lark ! 

You, who have heard our own dear thrushes 
chanting 
Through pine-sweet aisles their cadenced 
even-song — 
How dare I offer, through these echoes haunt- 
ing. 
My tiny call, yet do your ear no wrong ^ 

Nay, for the thrushes sing but in the summer, 
The nightingale and lark nest oversea 

The frozen woodland loves a lowly comer — 
To wish you mirth I sing, a chickadee I 



23 



Tomorrow 



FOR COMPANY 

THERE be who sing for pennies 
(Poor minstrels they, with hunger 
for their dole) ; 
There be who sing for praises 

(Ah, woe is me I Can clapping fill a soul *?) ; 
There be who sing, o'er land and sea. 

For all the earth to hear; 
There be who sing a lullaby, 

Beside a cradle dear. 
Or softly down some twilight street 

A homeward step to cheer. 
But as for me — no lullaby 

Nor hasty-coming feet 
For whom my voice is home and rest 

After the noon-day heat. 
No single soul in all the world 

To find the world more sweet 
Because I sing. Yet still, I sing — 

A little song and low 
To cheer my own heart through the dark, 

Where I must sometimes go; 



24 



Tomorrow 

Or, if the sun shines bright abroad, 

Because I love it so. 
And so I sing for company, 

(Lone pilgrim I, swift faring day by day). 
Glad if they say, who chance to hear — 

"The world is good I One singeth by the 
way I" 



25 



Tomorrow 



SYMPATHY 

A SMILE forever lieth low 
In eyes where shadows never dwell, 
Albeit there they come and go, 
For griefs she may not tell. 
The griefs of others are, I ween, 
More grievous than thine own, my Queen ! 

O clear, sweet eyes, that put aside 

All sorrows of their own. 
And in their calm depths, opened wide, 

Reflect the sun alone. 
The joys of others are, I ween, 
More joyous than thine own, my Queen! 

And when, across, the shadows creep. 

From lives in shadow laid, 
Yet still the tender smile doth sleep 

Behind the tender shade. 
The joy that lights thine eyes, I ween. 
Is gladder than all griefs, my Queen I 



26 



Tomorrow 



AUTUMN'S HERALDS 



J 



UST a bit of traced gold 
In my pathway lying, 
Fallen ere the wind's a-cold 
And the snow a-flying. 



Just a crimson banner flung 
Out upon the breezes, 

Autumn's victor signal, hung 
O'er each tree he seizes. 

Just a cricket, piping shrill 
In the dry, brown grasses. 

And a haze above the hill 
Tell me Summer passes ! 



27 



Tomorrow 



THE MYSTERY OF DAWN 

OVER the far hills creeping, creeping, 
Comes the light of another world. 
Kissing the fields as they lie a-sleeping, 
Staining the cloud-flags, dawn-unfurled. 

First a silence; then birds a-twitter. 

Half-hushed song from a leaf -hid nest; 

Rainbows over the grasses glitter. 

While the light grows from east to west. 

See ! it whitens from hills to zenith ; 

Hush! is it not some strange, new light? 
Who can tell what the wonder meaneth? 

This is the day we lost last night! 



28 



Tomorrow 



THE BIRCH ROAD 

THROUGH a mile of moonlight birches 
Runs a road I love, 
Where the dusty valley searches 
For the heights above. 

And my road scarce knows it rises, 

As it climbs and creeps, 
Till — oh wonderful surprises — 

It is past the steeps, 

And the far hills spread before it, 

And the woodland gray, 
Turns to sunset glory, o'er it. 

Will there come a day 

When, in golden breadth and beauty, 

We our hills shall find. 
And, through fruitless-seeming duty, 

Leave the vale behind. 

Coming, with a glad surprise. 

To our wished-for heights and skies'? 

29 



Tomorrow 



THE CHURCH PATH 

OVER a mowing sweet and gay 
With clover and with daisies 
Fares forth a little, fragrant path, 
Whereof I sing the praises. 

Down thro' the hushed and cloistered wood 
With one dear thrush-call ringing. 

Across a green, moss-hidden brook 
That goes with secret singing; 

Out to the sunshine once again. 
Where strawberries are growing. 

And through the shining, whispering leaves 
The free, glad winds are blowing; 

Into the open ! there you stand, 

Set round by mountains only; 
And in the midst the little church, 

So white — so still — so lonely. 



30 



Tomorrow 

The house of prayer, the hills of God, 
The vale of strength and healing — 

Give thanks here for the little path. 
And for the wide revealing. 



31 



Tomorrow 



OVER THE HEDGE 

I WHO have no garden, 
Ordered, sweet and fine, 
' Pray you, keep your hedge low, 
Happy neighbor mine! 
Not a single blossom 

Would I steal away, 
Tho' I breathe the sweetness 
All the livelong day. 

I, who have no garden, 

Everywhere I go; 
Find me wayside flowers — 

Gay and free they grow. 
Birds and winds have planted. 

And the Lord of all 
Makes Himself a garden. 

Where the seed may fall. 

I, who have no garden 

Where the birds may nest, 
Watch them flying over 

In unwearied quest. 



32 



Tomorrow 

Not for me their twilight 
Or their matin song, 

Only just to watch them 
Flying all day long. 

Why I have no garden 

Surely God must know, 
For He has so many. 

And I love them so! 
Neighbor, keep your garden 

Trim enough for two — 
Since perhaps my garden 

Has been given you ! 



33 



Tomorrow 



THE BLIND GENTIAN 



w 



HEN the autumn lays her finger 

Playful, half, on plain and hill. 
Loath to go, forbade to linger. 
Waits the exile Summer, still. 



Then, in all the golden dower 
Of those first September days. 

Springs a strange, pathetic flower, 
Up and down the woodland ways. 

Blue and bright the sky above it. 
Yet it never sees the sky, 

Nor the winds that seem to love it 
As, caressing, they pass by. 

Shut forever from the sweetness 
Which goes smiling far and near. 

Blind to all the dear completeness 
Garnered in the closing year, 



34 



Tomorrow 

There beside the roadway gleaming 

For the tired passer-by, 
Brave blind gentian — never dreaming 

That you give us back the sky ! 



35 



Tomorrow 



LIGHTS 

S we rushed home across the dark, 
After the sun went down, 
We saw full many a farm-house lamp 
And many a glimmering town. 



A 



Some lights were set for folk to toil 
And some shone out for play — 

And there were candles, watching long 
That wearied so for day I 

Across a river, mirror-black, 

The bridge lamps marched; and then 
Far off at sea a lighthouse flashed 

To guide the sailormeni 

We saw the moon come up ; we watched 

The darting fireflies. 
A hero from the magic east, 

We saw Orion rise. 



36 



Tomorrow 

At last the lamp, the hearth of home, 
For welcome bravely drest — 

Oh, all the lights of earth are good 
But lights of home are best I 



37 



Tomorrow 



"NO MORE SEA" 

OH, yesterday I sat beside 
The gold-green sea, and watched the 
race 
Of the far breakers, as the tide 
Came sweeping in, apace, apace. 

I saw the far-flung rainbow spray, 
I heard the grating pebbles roll; 

And as God's ocean filled the bay, 
His greatness stilled my soul. 

Across our fevered plains of death. 
Where the red sun rode hot and dry. 

The east blew in, with healing breath, 
From fresh, lone wastes of sea and sky. 

The little children on the sand 
Built castle, dike and magic cave. 

As tho' for them alone were planned 
The frolic of the turning wave. 



38 



Tomorrow 

Ah, sweet that world where it is true 
No need for ocean there shall be, 

But what will little children do. 
When there is "no more sea'"? 



39 



Tomorrow 



DO YOU KNOW THE LAND? 

DO you know the land where t±ie days are 
long, 
And the business it all is play, 
Till the sandman comes with a sweet, low song. 

And carries the dwellers away 
To lands that are fairer than daylight lands — 
Where the fairies come with gifts in their 
hands ? 

Do you know the land? 

Do you know the land where the sweet Queen 
reigns, 
The Queen who is half a saint; 
Who kisses away all her subjects' pains, 

And comforts every complaint 
With a smile and a song that are sweeter far 
Than the fruits of our grown-up strivings are? 
Do you know the land? 



40 



Tomorrow 

Do you know the land where the dwellers stand 

Impatient to be set free 
Into the wonderful grown-up land — 

Such a fair, fair land to see, 
With no sums to do and no words to spell. 
With never a school nor a bedtime bell? 
Do you know the land? 

Oh, beautiful land! If we could return 
And dwell in thy gates once more, 

I suppose that our foolish hearts would burn 
To be off, as they did before ; 

For, beautiful land, we loved not thee 

Till thy gates swung open and made us free I 
Do you know the land? 



41 



Tomorrow 



THANKSGIVING 

FOR the winter's saintly snow, 
For the springtime's hopeful green, 
For the summer's happy glow, 
For the autumn's golden sheen — 
Thee, O loving Lord, we bless 
In a song of thankfulness I 

For the gladness of the days 

When the sun shone clear and bright. 

With no hint of cloud or haze. 
From the morning to the night — 

Thee, O loving Lord, we bless 

In a song of thankfulness I 

For the peacefulness of night. 

Silent folding round our sleep. 
When nor danger nor affright 

Stirred the darkness, restful, deep — 
Thee, O loving Lord, we bless 
In a song of thankfulness I 



42 



Tomorrow 

Shall we take the good alone? 

Shall we leave the evil out? 
Can we for the cloud, the moan, 

For the danger and the doubt, 
Thee, O loving Lord, still bless 
In a song of thankfulness? 

Darkness showed thee Light of Light, 
Sorrow proved thee Friend of Friends, 

Danger taught thee Might of Might, 
Truth of Truth when doubt descends: 

For this learning, thee we bless 

In a song of thankfulness ! 

"All our times are in thy hand," 
And we thank thee for the whole; 

All has waited thy comm.and; 
For our joy, and for our dole 

Thee, O loving Lord, we bless 

In a song of thankfulness I 



43 



Tomorrow 



THE BOY WITH THE 
SHEPHERDS 

LAST night my father bade me go 
To guard the sheep with him 
From bear and wolf and other foe 
Along the hillsides dim. 
And while the silly sheep we kept, 

Or ever day was nigh, 
A glory as of dawning swept 
Across the midnight sky. 

My father fell upon his face 

(Ah, why was he dismayed^), 
But such sweet presence filled the place 

I did not feel afraid. 
And first there came a tender word 

Unto our waiting ears — 
A sweeter sound than any bird — 

It filled mine eyes with tears. 



44 



Tomorrow 

Then, straight, the whole wide sky was riv'n 

With one triumphant strain; 
It was as if the stars of heav'n 

Had found their song again. 
And what they sang I cannot say 

Save of a Baby, born 
In Bethlehem. We took our way 

To find Him, e'er the morn. 

Though now no more the glory fills 

The waiting midnight sky, 
And up and down the longing hills 

The herald echoes die, 
Yet when I guard my father's sheep 

Along the hillsides dim. 
That Baby seems with me to keep 

The watch, and I with Him. 
And once again, some far, sweet day 
I find and follow Him, alway I 



45 



Tomorrow 



''GOB REST YOU MERRY!" 

GOD rest you merry!" Dear my 
friend 
The quaint old wish is mine to- 
day; 
Wherever you may fare or fend, 
"Let nothing you dismay !" 

For laughter lifts the weariest load, 
Too sore for grieving hands to bear; 

And singing cheers the loneliest road; 
Brave smiles can vanquish care. 

"God rest you merry!" There is need 
For many a merry heart and glad ; 

Too oft our sighs our songs outspeed — 
The world is very sad. 

"God rest you merry," with the mirth ! 

That fills His holy dwellingplace ; 
Then, down the waiting ways of earth 

Wear His joy on your face. 



46 



Tomorrow 

And so the dear old wish, my friend, 
I send you from my heart today ; 

"God rest you merry" to the end ! 
"Let nothing you dismay !" 



47 



Tomorrow 



THE STRAIT WAY 

I THANK Thee, Lord, Thou madest hard 
The path of sin 
For me, with many a gate and guard 
Without, within — 
Thy grace, and scarce my will, hath barred 
And hedged me in I 

When other feet have wandered free, 

My wish, ingrate. 
Hath beat its barriers helplessly, 

But soon or late 
My tutored heart grew glad to see 

The path made strait. 

Yet even in this narrow way. 

Where I have toiled. 
With common dust of common day 

My hands are soiled, 
And tender things to miry clay 

My step hath spoiled. 



48 



Tomorrow 

Within Thy light, alike all stain; 

Akin we are — 
I, and those wearier hearts of men, 

Who wandered far. 
Down-bowed, I pray, "Forgive again! 

Save, Morning Star!" 



49 



Tomorrow 



THE GARDEN AND THE 
HIGHWAY 

GO forth into your garden, 
O heart with sorrow torn, 
And Jesus Christ, arisen, 
Shall meet you there, this mom I 
At first you may mistake Him, 

But linger for awhile 
And you will learn to know Him 
In voice and word and smile. 

Go forth along life's highway, 

O hopeless souls that grieve. 
And Jesus Christ shall greet you 

And walk with you at eve. 
Perchance you will not know Him, 

Yet tell Him all your dread 
And He your house will enter 

To bless your daily bread. 



50 



Tomorrow 



"SIR, WE WOULD SEE JESUS" 

SHOW us thy face, O Christ, that we may 
love thee, 
For some forget and some have never 
seen, 
But there is naught we e'er can place above thee 
When once we see thee, beautiful, serene ! 

Show us thy face, that shone of old with bless- 
ing 

All up and down the ways of Galilee ! 
And, like thy fishers, thy dear might confessing. 

We, too, for very love shall follow thee ! 

Show us thy face, thorn-wounded for our heal- 
ing— 
O, heart of mine, canst thou that crown for- 
give'? — 
Those bleeding hands were for our pardon's 
sealing 
And thy heart fainted that our souls might 
live! 



51 



Tomorrow 

Show us thyself, Lord Christ! In lovingkind- 
ness, 
Above the tumult of the world between, 
Show us thyself and put away our blindness. 
We needs must love thee when we once have 
seen. 



52 



Tomorrow 



^THIS IS ETERNAL LIFE" 

SHALL a man live tomorrow'?" 
What matter, and who shall say? 
Why from the future borrow? 
Ask more, "Doth he live today?" 



53 



Tomorrow 



THE TRYST 

THE Little Dream walked with me, 
hand in hand, 
Up to the Place of Waking. 
*'0h, cross with me into the Morning Land," 
I begged, "for dawn is breaking. 

"You never saw the sunshine on your way. 
And I — have fared without you 

So many weary roads, day after day, 
Sometimes, almost, I doubt you I" 

{The Little Dream speaks.) 

'1 may not pass beyond the Gate of Sleep; 

Here I must wait you, only — 
Yet doubt me not, though 'tis but here I keep 

The tryst. I, too, am lonely!" 



54 



Tomorrow 



THE KEY-NOTE 

I MAY not sit alone and sing 
The long day through, 
In autumn woods or fields of spring, 
For I must do 
My little task of every day, 
And sing at that — if sing I may ! 

But oh, believe me, I have guessed 

What joy may be 
In birds and stars and loving quest 

Of free things — free 
From prisonings of daily care, 
The liberty of wings to share. 

Yet I am sure the lord of song 

Hath set within 
Each common task a sweet note, strong 

Enough to win 
Some music from each day's turmoil, 
If we but hearken while we toil I 



55 



Tomorrow 



TOMORROW AND TODAY 

TOMORROW is with Thee, O Lord, 
Wherever it may rise — 
And so we will not fear to go 
Full bravely forward, since we know 
Within Thy love it lies. 

Tomorrow is with Thee, oh Lord, 

When it shall whiten far. 
Beyond the sunshine warm and bright, 
Beyond the healing touch of night. 

Beyond the morning star I 

Tomorrow is with Thee, O Lord, 

Or near or far away ; 
But in the dusty roads of life 
In weariness, or joy, or strife 

Our business is Today. 



56 



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